


The Shot

by Traw



Category: The Streets of San Francisco
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25982878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traw/pseuds/Traw
Summary: Drawing a deep breath to settle his nerves, he squinted before frowning in concentration as he ensured that the cross-hair was correctly centered on the two people approaching him
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	The Shot

Lifting the camera to his eye, he quickly adjusted the lens to bring the two men into focus as they walked towards him. He smiled as he gently placed his finger on the shutter button, imagining his photo on the front of tomorrow's paper. He could even see the headlines beneath his photo: 'SFPD Homicide Officers Questions Mayor About Wife’s Murder.'

His editor would be happy.

)0)0)0)

Lifting the rifle to his shoulder, he quickly adjusted the sight, bringing the two men walking in the street below him into sharper focus. He smiled as he rested his finger lightly on the trigger, relishing seeing the headlines on tomorrow's paper: 'Homicide Lieutenant Killed in Ambush' in his mind's eye.

His boss would be happy.

)0)0)0)

Drawing a deep breath to settle his nerves, he squinted before frowning in concentration as he ensured that the cross-hair was correctly centered on the two people approaching him. Licking his lips as his shot lined up perfectly, he drew another deep, calming breath as he gently pressed down on the button.

)0)0)0)

Drawing a deep breath to calm his excitement, he centered the sight into the middle of the two men before slightly raising the gun to slowly focus the cross-hairs first on one before moving across to his target. Licking his lips, he lined his shot up perfectly; he drew another deep, calming breath as his finger tightened on the trigger.

)0)0)0)

Reluctantly picking up the paper, he shivered as he stared at his picture. His picture had made the front page of the paper but not with the headlines he had first imagined. His camera had caught the very moment that Homicide Inspector Steven Keller had been shot. The look of surprise and shock on the young inspector’s face and the small red stain that had quickly spread across the front of his shirt still drew his eyes to Stone’s partner’s chest. His editor had been ecstatic, had even called it an award-winning shot. He dropped the paper back down onto the table. That shot would haunt him the rest of his life!

)0)0)0)

Snatching up the paper, he growled aloud as he stared at the picture. The headlines were not the one that he thought he would be reading today. The picture that captured the exact moment when the bullet hit the Homicide inspector did nothing to lift his black mood. The fact that Keller had turned slightly just as he had taken the shot made no difference; his shot had been off and his boss refused to listen to excuses. He had failed! He dropped the paper back onto his table before he grabbed his hastily packed suitcase and turned towards the door. That shot would be the death of him.

)0)0)0)

Picking up the paper, Mike Stone stared at the photo on the front. The picture capturing one of the worse moments in his life and the headline: 'SFPD Homicide Inspector Shot In Street' still sent chills down his spine. If he closed his eyes he could still hear the unexpected shot from the sniper; he could still see the look of shock on Steve's face as Steve silently stared down at the bullet hole that had suddenly appeared in his chest before hastily looking back at him in pain and confusion.

Their eyes had met for a moment before Steve had collapsed. His chest still tightened with fear as he remembered those first few minutes after he managed to drag Steve to safety, not knowing where the gunman was or if he was waiting to line them up for another shot. He could still feel Steve in his arms, as he pressed down desperately in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The warm, wet blood that had seeped through his fingers confirmed the seriousness of the situation; there was a very real chance of losing Steve yesterday in those horrifying minutes. The reminder tore at Mike’s soul, robbing him of his breath.

Lowering the newspaper in his hand, he stared at his partner lying motionless on the bed, taking in the sight of the soft green light that danced across the small heart monitor above the bed, the white bandages that encircled Steve's chest, the tube that emerged from beneath it and disappeared over the side of the bed, the piggybacked drips that flowed into his arm and the oxygen mask that covered the lower half of his too pale face. They all told Mike what he already knew. It had been close, too close yesterday.

He growled in anger and frustration as he dropped the paper back down onto the table and looked back at the injured man in the bed, he whispered a soft promise, hoping that Steve would be able to hear him. "We will get whoever shot you, Buddy Boy, I swear we will."


End file.
